Elements
by Rainbows28
Summary: It hurt him for some reason he wasn't even going to begin to try to explain. It just hurt. He leaned back and sat inches from her, both silent in the world filling slowly with chaos. Both becoming the calm before the erratic storm. Both becoming the last hope of survival as they sat there, true soldiers in the midst of madness. Extreme OOC. Izzy/Clary friendship!
1. Chapter 1

Jace truly didn't think what Gia had said was true, until he saw her. Then he knew. He just _knew_. You could tell in her entire appearance. Her hair a deep natural red symbolizing the fire coursing through her veins. Then there was the water blue eyes that were so blue it was quite difficult for him to even look at them, while it was physically impossible for him to look away. The pupil of her eyes seemed to fade into the electric blue of her iris, making them look almost _alive_. Showcasing the water in her very being.

Her skin was dark and earthy, a natural golden color symbolizing the earth that was tied to her very DNA. Then finally, her essence breathed innocence yet darkness, like air. A suffocating yet undeniable need for life. Fire. Water. Earth. Air. She was all of them rolled into a seductress, a tight lithe body that would have any sane man dropping to his knees.

Her eyes inquired Jace with near . . . amusement. Yeah, he didn't like that. "See something you like, kitten?" He asked and her eyes slammed up to meet his own, he waited for the untimely flush most females got when he called them on their ogling, but it never came. A small smirk played at full, poetic lips, one that could challenge his, and that's saying something.

"Perhaps, but not as much as you." She purred, winking at him. He ignored the tightening in his nether regions, thankful for the tight pants that thankfully hid the tent that would have formed. His jaw tightened and her eyes trailed over to Gia, Isabelle, Alec, and Magnus.

"Magnus, love, you look great for an old man." She said simply and turned back into her kitchen, going back to making tea. Magnus merely rolled cat like, glowing eyes and took in her body.

"Yes and you've kept in shape, Clarissa." He purred right back and she turned, a wicked glint and smile overtaking her facial features.

"What can I say? We're both gorgeous." She said, leaning forward, giving Jace and anyone else a very, very nice view of cleavage belonging to full round breasts, yes, perfection.

Jace didn't like it, mainly because of the effect it was having on him, but still, he didn't like it. "Clary, we're here to speak with you about certain . . . developments." Jace nearly snorted at Gia's comment, Clary, however, did. She turned, warm blue turning to cold ice in the matter of a seconds. It sent an unwelcome surge of pride through Jace's chest as he watched her.

"Developments?" She very nearly spat the word, "Why don't we just say what we mean, Gia, no need to sugar coat it. You forget I've fought in countless wars." She waved her hands animatedly like it was obvious, before rolling her eyes and turning back to her task at hand.

Gia scowled at her back, before schooling her facial features. "Right, someone is killing, in the same way Sebastian had and it's becoming harder and harder to keep quiet. Our kind are dropping like flies." Gia said with an indifferent shrug. Clary didn't react like Jace had expected, meaning, she didn't react at all.

She merely turned off the stove and poured the steaming water into the sink before pouring cold water into the hot metal pot and looking up at Gia with true indifference. "Okay." Clary said, she didn't even blink out of character, merely poured the colder water back out and set the metal down, exiting her kitchen with ease and confidence.

"Okay?!" Gia's voice was shrill and Jace, along with everyone, but Clary, grimaced. Clary just walked around, straightening up her apartment as if it were a normal Monday night.

"I just told you, that some psychotic bastard is killing our kind like every other minute, in the same way your evil brother had and all you say is 'okay'?" The shrillness had nearly turned to hysterics and Alec glanced at her with a twinge of annoyance at the shriek of it. Jace merely stared in amusement.

"Frankly, Gia, yes. Because I _warned_ all of you, _decades_ ago that this could happen. With Magnus _and_ the angel, as my goddamn witnesses. All of you shoved up your snotty noses and basically told me to go fuck myself. So give me one reason why my answer should be anything but, 'okay'?" Clary snarled, fury lacing her voice and shielding her eyes as flame slid along her arm in a wisp like fashion of barely contained rage.

Gia didn't have an answer, she swallowed thickly and cleared her throat. "Clary, the war with your Valentine and Sebastian had just ended. We all figured that there was no way anything like that could happen again . . ." Gia trailed off before releasing a relenting sigh.

"We were blinded by our own relief, many lost their lives. Brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers, friends, daughters, sons; friends. Thousands died, everyone just wanted peace. Our need for silence and the calm, blinded the reality of just how far in the dark we had gone. You remember what it was like, blood painted the streets and rained from the skies. Everyone just wanted naivety. Hope." Gia murmured, Jace, Alec, and Isabella were tense behind Magnus and Gia.

The three of them hadn't been alive _decades_ ago, they wouldn't reach their immortality for at least another half a decade. Female shadowhunters froze at twenty-one while the men froze at twenty-five and they were all eighteen, so Jace figured in three years Izzy would be frozen and he would be in seven, as would Alec.

Jace didn't understand the pain people experienced during the dark ages, but he knew it was paralyzing. Some had lost their minds, others their souls, while the unlucky ones lost families and loved ones. Then there were some, who just lost, forgotten in the midst of bloodshed and horror. It sent a shudder of pity and anger through his veins. Three people stood in this room, each of them knowing the pain he was imagining and each looking dead inside by it.

"I understand, Gia. I mean, I was smack in the middle of it all." Clary reminded them and both flinched. Magnus ruffled his hair and released an emotion huff of air, his eyes glistening for a fraction of a second.

Gia nodded, "We're asking for your help. With utmost respect and hope, we really, really need your help, Clary." Gia was on the verge of begging and it was so uncharacteristic of her that Jace couldn't stop his features from twisting in surprise.

Clary stared off to the side for a while, so quiet that Jace briefly wondered if she were even alive. Then she looked directly at Gia, her eyes flaming with uncontained excitement. "I'm in."


	2. Chapter 2

Jace watched Clary move through the halls of the Great Hall with ease and confidence. Emotions he never truly felt when in this building. Sure, anywhere, the battle field, the training room, and even in bed, his confidence never wavered, but here? In the sacred place of his people, where the elders resided, he couldn't shake the uneasiness.

Clary, however, was completely and utterly unaffected. At least her outward appearance was. She wore a pair of tight leather jeans that hugged her lean legs like a second skin, as if she'd painted a thick coat of shiny black paint along her curves.

The hem rested on tight hips with a belt tightly wrapped around tightly, holding some type of dagger and her sensor. Along with a few other pouches he didn't understand, but the look was utterly badass. You know, with the red tank top showing of teasing glimpses of her tight stomach as she walked and the leather jacket that framed her body like a shield. Yes, she was magnificent. Intimidating and Jace was never intimidated by women.

Then there was the leather biker gloves. She wore the attire better than Isabelle did, and Izzy was the female warrior of her generation. Jace's jaw tightened again, annoyance and arousal running through his veins. Clary pushed through the large French doors, grinning as all eyes turned from the front, away from the Inquisitor, and landing directly on Clary.

Some eyes widened in shock while others in fear, some in complete and utter disbelief. She walked, her hips rolling sensually in the tantalizing way god gave her. "Inquisitor, you've aged." Clary said with a slight hint of surprise in her sharp feminine voice. One hand rested on a hip while the other rested calmly at her side.

"You haven't." Imogen commented, moving from her pedestal. Jace figured the inquisitor to be over a millennia, perhaps even more. And what he knew, was that she'd slowed her aging down centuries ago, wanting to age with her human husband and children; not wanting to outlive them. Then a question popped into his head. _If Clary knew Imogen when she was young, then exactly how old is Clary?_

Imogen stood right in front of Clary, the girls matching in height. Imogen a little curvier than Clary, body loosened by age and years of ware. The older women grabbed Clary's chin with such force that Jace flinched, hell, everyone flinched. They were very nearly nose to nose and Imogen lifted Clary's chin, as if inspecting her. Then suddenly, both of their irises flashed a brilliant gold, shining like the sun behind their eyes, but there was something dark in the gaze. Something sinister than caused Jace's flesh to crawl.

"Ah . . . yes, filled with the same amount of demons as them. You three were always thick as thieves." The icy words left Imogen's mouth, rolling off her tongue in waves of cool confidence.

"Bite. Me." Clary snarled and Imogen released her, both of their eyes settling to the natural color. Ocean blue and pale green. Jace swallowed and noticed how pale some faces looked. Robert stood from his place.

"Imogen." He warned and a bark of uncontained laughter erupted from Clary. The sound was bitter and fierce, ripping through the air like a blade through water. Cutting sharp and fast with no remorse or embarrassment.

"Oh, yes, Imogen, run like a good little bitch back to your master." Clary purred and Imogen didn't react. Clary wanted a reaction, she didn't get one. No one in the room understood what that comment meant, Imogen did and that's all that mattered. Clary's eyes trailed over to Robert and she blew him a kiss, he blinked. Then Clary cocked her head to the side while watching the inquisitor with inquisition.

"I'm here to help, just to listen and like you said, my demons match theirs. So I know what this copycat wants. I know how he'll do it. I know when he'll do it. And I also know how to stop him, but if you'd like me to leave and allow you idiots to thrust us into another dark war . . ." Clary's voice trailed off as she motioned toward the door, looking ready to leave.

"I will." Clary promised, vowed. Imogen sucked in a sharp breath, before releasing it slowly.

"Stay, keep your mouth shut, but stay." Imogen said and Clary ran her fingers along her lips in a zipping fashion before pretending to throw away a key, tossing an unapologetic wink at Imogen before strutting off toward an empty bench row, sitting down, crossing her legs and resting her elbows on the back seat. She smiled prominently at the older woman.

"Oh wise one, do continue." She said, eyes searching Imogen's. Without another word, the older woman turned and made her way back up to the stage. Alec and Isabelle took a seat next to their mother, but Jace didn't. He walked over and sat next to Clary. She glanced at him with a look that asked if he'd just lost his sanity, and he stared back at her with a blank expression, before leaning back. His ankle crossed over a thigh, arms crossed over a broad chest, and eyes forward, impatiently waiting for the 'wise one' to start her speech.

"They hate you." Jace muttered under his breath as Imogen continued to speak. They were too far back and he was too quiet to be heard through the shouts of annoyance and arguments running around the room.

"You're observant." Clary delivered, sarcasm lacing her words.

"Why?" He asked, still staring straight ahead, but he felt her shrug.

"Once upon a time, I defied the elder leader of our race. I defied the angel and I turned my back on some of our people. It got many killed." She commented and Jace's attention whipped around to stare at her, his shoulders seemed to deflate and he waited for her to explain, when she didn't, he asked again.

"Why?"

"Because it was the only way to save the humans. I'm talking a couple hundred of our kind, opposed to an entire race. Frankly, I figured the billions of souls were far more important in the long run. War always has casualties, Jace. No one wanted to make the tough calls in that war, no one wanted to even be the one to contemplate ever approaching the subject. I made a call, I completed the mission. And two-hundred and fifty-six shadowhunters lost their lives. One of the souls was Imogen's son." Her eyes lowered to her thighs, shame grazed her features before she covered it.

"I'm not liked around here, I'm respected, sure, but liked? Hell no." She sighed and slumped into the bench. He leaned back.

"You know my name." He murmured and she grinned slowly, giving him a glance.

"Of course I know your name, tiger. You're Jace fucking Herondale. I knew your dad." She said, cocking her head to the side and giving Jace a once over.

"Celine's blood line made you _gorgeous_." She purred and his lips twitched up, not knowing how he felt about her knowledge of his parents. By the angel, she was responsible for the Great Bridge Battle. He'd studied it in class, the teachers had always been hesitant on informing the younger generation about what had exactly happened, but Jace had been curious, so he did some outside studying.

Turns out that the bridge that had collapsed was the one connecting the Shadow world, to the human one. Men and women alike had lost their lives. He'd read how demons had been nearly a fraction of an inch close to invading the other side, erupting chaos and hell on humanity. He blinked and sat up straighter, then he lowered his face and his voice, fury tightening his tone as he whispered in her ear.

"Let me get this straight. You're hated because you stopped Armageddon?" He growled and she glanced at him, before inhaling shakily and shrugging a slim shoulder.

"Were these 'elders' at the time, complete dipshits? If you hadn't done whatever it was you did to lead that army there, hell would have been unleashed on earth, sending it into nothing but a corrupt world of fire and chaos were demons roamed freely. Our race would have been eradicated because the reproduction of demons would have doubled at a rate we wouldn't have been able to follow. I mean, I wasn't there and even I know that." He said and she stared straight ahead, unblinking.

"Jace." She murmured, glancing over at him.

"You think like that because you're not bias. No one you loved died in that battle. No one you loved was led there under false pretenses of a simple checking of camps." She pressed and he scoffed.

"We're Shadowhunters. We give our lives every day for the greater good." She covered his mouth, her hand surprisingly warm and soft against his skin.

"By choice. I took that choice. I ignored direct orders. If given a choice, I have no doubt they would have followed me, but elders would have pulled their children, husbands, and wives from the company, no one would have been left and I needed numbers. Hell, I took the lowest troop we had. It needed to be kept a secret, because back then, people weren't worried about duty or honor, they were worried about who they would come home to. A family of loved ones or an empty hollow house filled with the ghosts of a lost life." She dropped her hand and went back to inquiring the arguments. Jace's voice lowered.

"You feel guilt over it." He whispered and she glanced to the side.

"That battle was the one that led to the occurrences that ended the Dark Age, you started those occurrences and you were there until the very end. Risking your life every day, yet you feel guilty because some bitch can't get over the horrors and risks of war. Why?" He breathed and she turned to stare directly at him.

"Because I didn't die." It was a simple answer and one that spoke volumes. She felt guilty because she survived. It hurt him for some reason he wasn't even going to begin to try to explain. It just hurt. He leaned back and sat inches from her, both silent in the world filling slowly with chaos. Both becoming the calm before the erratic storm. Both becoming the last hope of survival as they sat there, true soldiers in the midst of madness.


	3. Chapter 3

Jace led Clary through the long halls of the New York institute. She was tense and so was he. The meeting had been uneventful, apart from the occasional bitching and all around chaos. Both were anxious and neither spoke. Jace kicked Clary's door open and set her bags down, feeling her gaze on his back.

He turned and stared down at her. The tip of her head barely reached his chin, but that didn't mean she was short, he _was_ six feet five inches. Without a word, he side-stepped her and walked through her doorway. Then he was gone.

Clary stood in the room. Staring at the large four poster bed. It was large with golden and black sheets. They looked soft and inviting, tempting. Clary unpacked and removed her clothes. As she pulled on the loose, small tank top, her door opened, and a very beautiful, tall, raven haired female entered. She grinned widely at Clary and the red head blinked.

"Hi!" The raven haired girl, chirped. Her brilliant brown eyes pierced through everything and anything, Clary noticed the fading and new runes on her exposed ebony skin. Her tight lithe body stood with pride and power, an air of confidence enveloping her. Clary didn't know whether to immediately love her or hate her.

"Hello." Clary returned, less enthusiastic. She did stand there in a small tank top and a small pair of cotton panties, her legs and half of her midriff exposed, not that she was self-conscious or anything, Clary was well aware of her physical beauty, she just didn't believe in the internal so many have boasted about.

"I'm Izzy, Jace's sister and a Lightwood." Izzy informed her as she plopped onto the bed. Clary watched her and pulled on a pair of cut off sweat shorts that brushed the top of her thighs. Izzy's smile didn't fade.

"I'm Clary." Clary said, needing to fill the slightly awkward silence with something. It had been suffocating her.

"Oh, I know!" Izzy chirped with a dismissive wave of her hand, she reminded Clary of a pixie, although, _sweeter_.

"I'm sorry about Jace, by the way. He's an asshole, so . . ." Izzy trailed off and Clary was momentarily confused, her face must have showed that because Izzy cocked her head to the side.

"Unless he wasn't . . . he's not usually nice to newcomers. Everyone else complained about him so I figured that you would be the same. Habit, actually." She flushed and Clary had to admit, this girl was something else.

"Yes, well he was . . ." What was he? Gorgeous? Yes. Hot as all hell fire? Oh yeah. Unattainable? Ding. Ding. Ding. But he wasn't an _ass_ , perhaps cocky, but not an ass.

"Fine, he was fine." Clary cleared her throat and Izzy's smiled softly.

"Is it weird for you? Being back in this world. My mom told me stories about you, about how you were involved deeply in the dark ages and then thrust out . . ." Izzy bit her bottom lip as if to stop herself. Clary merely stared at her, before glancing at her door. She closed it gently with a simple flick of her wrist, before climbing onto the bed and situating herself.

"You don't beat around the bush, do you?" Clary asked, twirling her hair to the crown of her head before tying it there. Izzy flushed and shook her head sheepishly.

"Yes, Izzy, it is weird. I suppose. More along the lines of uncomfortable. I'm not very much liked, in fact, I'm not liked at all. Especially by your mother." Clary, settling against one of the large posts and met Izzy's eyes. The younger girl stared, beauty and youth lacing her features and eyes. Whereas youth and beauty laced Clary's features, her eyes held wisdom and age beyond all comprehension.

"I know my mother's feelings on you, but I used to defend you. I found what you did during the wars honorable and courageous. In fact, I want to be just like you." Clary flinched at that confession. She wasn't a role model, hell no, she shouldn't even be told in any manner other than horror stories around a campfire.

"I'm not something you want to aspire to be, Izzy. Believe me. I'm not good." Clary said, gaining a rather unattractive snort from Izzy, which seemed to make it all the more attractive coming from this beautiful girl.

"Oh please. Clary I know what you did at the Great Bridge Battle wasn't exactly something to write home about, but that's what makes it something to write home about. I have no doubt that those soldiers would have followed you without thought, if they had known. War means sacrifice and our race was made for war. You survived and in the end, you saved more lives than lost." Izzy said gently, placing a hand on Clary's knee.

Clary stared at her, not sure whether to hug the girl, laugh, or burst into tears. In fact, she kind of wanted to do all three. Izzy was beautiful inside and out and in that moment, Clary realized she definitely loved her.

"You're very wise for your age, Izzy and I have a feeling this generation of soldiers is one I would have fit in with more than my own. Women can do more. When I was young, before my immortality, which was too long ago. I was outspoken. Too bold. I didn't listen or follow the men. I led them, at least the ones I could find. Or I fought alone and that was more often than not." Clary stilled, not quite sure how much she was going to tell the girl, but at the fascination and true interest in her brown depths, Clary continued.

"My father . . ." Clary trailed off and glanced at Izzy for confirmation that she knew who that was, at her nod and sad eyes, Clary went on.

"Valentine, he wasn't always so cruel and I know that's impossible to even contemplate. He's responsible for the deaths of millions of lives over the centuries, perhaps more. But he wasn't cruel, when I was young, he was peaceful, kind, honorable. He fought next to, instead of, in front of. He took others' advice and he _loved_ , god Izzy did he love. After my mother died, he changed. He drank more, paranoia surrounded him and he . . . turned on us. Jonathon and I." Clary inhaled deeply, but Izzy listened with still curious interest. She wanted to know.

"His drinking made him . . . cruel. I can still remember the first time he hit me. I was thirteen and I'd gotten home late, getting home late in that century was like saying you were out spreading your legs or dead. I, however, had just gotten caught up in the library. He didn't let me explain before fists went flying. Jonathon flipped, being three years older than me, he had strength and height on my father, but my father was far more experienced, beat Jon within an inch of his life. He feigned confusion in the morning, sadness, guilt and we'd believed him." Clary looked away, shame coloring her cheeks.

"We should have said something, Izzy. We should have said what he was doing to us. Back then, it was allowed for a father to beat their children, no law against it, but that didn't mean there wasn't compassion or anger amongst those who were against it. If I had told my father's Parabatai what had been happening, he would have killed Valentine." Clary said looking straight into Izzy's eyes.

"Even though they were Parabatai?" Izzy asked, a pillow resting in her lap as she looked at Clary with sympathy and sadness in her eyes, laced with compassion.

"Yeah, Luke was like a second dad and by the time I turned fifteen, he was the only one I had. He was turned into a werewolf when I was seventeen, my father took him out into the woods one night and told him that he could either kill himself or that he would. Luke refused and they fought, Luke got away, I've seen him over the centuries. Sometimes it's just us locking eyes, others were calm conversations about the battles. The last time was twenty years ago at the end of the Dark Ages, he said goodbye and I let him go." Clary murmured and watched in shock as tears streaked down Izzy's face.

She wiped them quickly and squeezed the pillow to her chest, "What happened to Valentine and Sebastian?" Izzy whispered and Clary tensed.

"No one talks about it, I mean, not that I expect them too, but still. I know Sebastian or Jonathon or whatever his name was, was killed. But what happened to your father?" Izzy asked gently and Clary sighed, leaning back and staring at Izzy, lips pursed.

"You want the lie or the truth?" Clary asked and Izzy's eyes widened at the question, as if there was something she was _supposed_ to tell, apart from the actual truth. Izzy gulped.

"Both." She confessed. Clary licked her lips.

"Alright, the lie is that both my brother and father are rotting in the deepest abyss of hell. The truth? Neither are dead. They're locked in a prison along the coast of The Island." Clary said with a shrug and Izzy stared, eyes wide, mouth on the ground.


	4. Chapter 4

"What?!" The girl shrieked and Clary's lips twitched.

"They haven't figured out how to kill them. They were weakened and are currently in some sort of coma, but they're not dead. Guarded twenty-four seven, but not dead. I'm pretty sure I know how to destroy them, I'm sure I did the night both of them were 'killed'." Clary used air quotes on the last word.

"Well, why did you say something?" Izzy asked, looking confused, not judgmental.

"Imogen and Gia, along with your father told me to keep my mouth shut long before I could say something. They just wanted the war over. Fools. No offence." Clary grumbled and Izzy shook her head.

"None taken, my dad is a fool and a bastard, but I still don't get it. If you can destroy them and you're as bold as you say you are, why didn't you, you know? Just break in and destroy them, damn the consequences." Clary laughed, oh yes, she liked Izzy.

"Oh, young girl, I think I kind of love you." Izzy grinned and Clary sighed.

"Because, Izzy, I destroy them and everyone knows they didn't die in the battle. That might cause uproar of the worst kind and the other part? I don't know if what's left of my humanity could be salvaged if I killed them. Even though they hated me and I hated them, I don't know if I could come back from killing the man who gave me life and the one who kept me safe for most of it."

•••

Clary didn't understand how Izzy roped her into going hunting with her and her brothers. She also didn't understand how she was then put into a dress that was basically tight cotton wrapped around her breasts and bottom. It was skin tight, accentuating to her curves. She didn't know whether to pull it up or push it down. She gave Izzy a glance, feeling a little naked.

"I'm not a modest woman, Iz, really, I'm not, but _seriously_ I can't fight in this. I'll be far too worried about flashing my panties." Clary said and Izzy cocked her head to the side before nodding in understanding.

Then, the brunette grinned and turned, bouncing into her closet before returning with long leather things. Which Clary realized were boots. She couldn't help the loud laughter that erupted from her as Izzy held out one in each hand, grinning deviously.

"Izzy, if I had worn those anywhere when I was your age, I would have been tarred and feathered." Both girls stare at each other, before wide grins spread across their faces.

"Zip up." Izzy chirped.

The boots, helped. They hugged her legs, encasing them in leather while leaving half of her thighs exposed, tantalizing, sexy strips of skin. Clary smirked as she put her hair into a large braid that hung past her breasts on the right side of her head. Both girls walked out of the room, laughing about something that Clary couldn't even remember, but it felt good to laugh.

Clary came to a stop at a soft whistle, her eyes met Magnus' and she grinned seductively. "Hey there, Mags." She purred and the warlock's eyes glowing with electricity.

"I thought you were gay." Izzy said passing Magnus and Clary smirked.

"Have you changed sexualities on me, now? Maggie? Pity." Clary said sauntering past him and Magnus grunted before turning on her with annoyance.

"Listen, children of the Nephilim, my sexuality is of none of your concern unless you are in my bed and Clarissa you haven't been in my bed for nearly a hundred years, so shut up." He snapped and Clary smiled, placing lip gloss on in the small mirror by the blades.

"Magnus, I'm merely teasing. I don't judge you for who you decide to love or take into your bed." Clary said, honestly and Magnus cocked his head to the side, staring at her.

"Can I ask you a question?" The warlock asked, crossing his arms and Clary nodded with a shrug.

"Did you fuck Camille?" He asked, seeming interested and four sets of eyes suddenly bore into her. Clary stared at Magnus, pressing her lips together.

"I may have dabbled with females, but believe me, Magnus. I prefer men." Clary said and Magnus released a husky laugh, body shaking.

"I never understood that, you're too dominant. You're _never_ on the bottom. Even Blake admitted that and Blake was a fucking demon, yet you dominated him." Magnus said and Izzy looked over, intrigued while Clary leaned back on the table, arms crossed an ankle over one foot.

"Magnus, a male's body arouses me more than a female's. Sure having sex with a girl was interesting and new, but not my thing. And just because I prefer dominance in bed, does not mean I'm a Lesbian, it means I'm waiting for a _man_ to dominant me." Clary said simply with a shrug of indifference. She winked at Izzy who grinned broadly back.

"And that man would surely hold your heart." Magnus murmured and Clary stared at him, a frown deepening her features.

"What makes you say that?" She quips and he shrugs.

"You'd have to trust and undeniably love a man to let him control you during sex, and that man, would have to own your heart." He said with a simple shrug and Magnus watches her carefully.

"It's funny how time can pass and we never find that person, even though we become that person for others." Magnus says, staring at her. The innuendo clear in his eyes. He'd been in love with her. She hadn't been in love with him. Clary looked away, out of the window.

"Have fun on your hunt, Nephilim!" He called before disappearing out of the training room. Clary's eyes settled on Alec, he was staring down at his weapons, eyes unfocused and distracted. A war waging in them, jealously and confusion.

Clary decided to clear that up, "Magnus and I had a relationship, it had been more for him than for me and I hurt him in the end. Although, he hadn't been in love with me, sometimes, the idea of love lost hurts more than losing it, because realization dawns that you never truly had it in the first place and an illusion being shattered, that pain is paralyzing." Izzy smiles sadly while Alec stares at her, her eyes locked with his before trailing over to Jace, he looked intrigued.


	5. Chapter 5

The left for the club, Alec and Izzy entered the dancing scene while Jace and Clary made their way over to the bar. "You've never been in love?" Jace asked, over the music and she glanced at him, frowning, before shaking her head.

"Nope." She called back and they got through the loud music to peaceful silence. Clary sat on a stool with Jace settling next to her. She ordered a beer, he ordered the same. Settling with her back against the seat, she waited in silent patience for her drink. Jace didn't.

"Clary." He said and she hummed, still staring at the liquor lining the walls.

"How come you've never been in love?" He asked, rubbing his hands together and her gaze snaps to his for a fraction of a second before looking away, that was a personal question.

Clary took a sip of her freshly arrived beer before setting it down, rubbing her fingers down the small water droplets of concentration. The water swirled around, every droplet from the bottle slowly sliding toward her skin. She smiled softly, a gentle lift of her lips.

"Love hurts, Jace." She mumbled and then shrugged.

"My father and brother broke my heart far before any boy could, I vowed no one else would get the chance. Because the pain had darkened my soul, hardened my heart, basically I became a bitch." She said with a soft smile.

"Have you ever been in love?" She asked him, his lips molded around the rim of the bottle and her throat dried as sensual golden eyes trailed over to her. The heat in his gaze had her wondering if maybe he could read her mind, sense her lust.

"No, I haven't ever been in love. Sex is sex. Mutual release, nothing more, nothing less." He said.

"I completely agree." She said, both took long sips of their drink, before falling into a comfortable silence.

"Has anyone ever been close to love, that is, for you?" He asked and she stared blankly in to space.

"Magnus." She confessed, before closing her eyes tightly.

"He was my best friend, and lover for long period of time, but there was no chemistry. There was no spark and in all honesty, I won't settle for anything less than an inferno." She confessed, her cheeks warming as she did, scowling she took another sip. She hadn't flushed in so. Fucking. Long. How did this random boy cause that?

"You're looking for passion, a love that consumes you, instead of the orgasm you could reach by yourself." Jace said, smirking knowingly at her. She stared at him, mouth full of beer that wouldn't go down her thick throat. She swallowed, hard, nearly choking on the bitter substance, but she held her breath and passed through it, not wanting to spit on him.

"Yeah . . . but I'm not looking for it. In fact, if I found it, I'd run away from it." She said and he raised an annoying eyebrow. She couldn't do that, damn him.

"You? Run? Nah, freak out? Hell yes, but run? No. Of course, you'd have to find a guy that would run right next to you. Perhaps even chase, and not many would chase after you, Clarissa Morgenstern." He confessed with a sly smirk and she stared at him, feigning annoyance and disinterest.

"Why not?" She snapped, why the fuck does she have to know?! Damn him! Fucking hell.

"Because you're as intimidating as the sun." He purred and she got lost in those eyes, in his scent. God, had he always smelt that good? Spice and man, all. Fucking. Man. No boy, pure masculinity radiated from him. He was large, too fucking tall and broad for a boy of eighteen years. Broad shoulders, long muscular legs, and a rippling chest that seemed to flex as he breathed. Sex on legs, incarnated. Damn him.

Then there was the golden skin, golden hair, and golden eyes, god he truly was a Nephilim. Inhuman beauty, strength, and skill in all. She turned, keeping the mask of indifference on her face as she scanned the room. She felt him smile as his body shook with soft laughter. Okay, Izzy was right, he _was_ an ass.

He leaned forward, his lips near her ear, she kept her face blank. "Can you sense one? I hear with age, you can sense them easier." He murmured and her lips quirked.

"My age, you've been wondering about that, haven't you, Jace?" She purred, taking some kind of pleasure in his flush. Her lips twitched as she watched him, their faces nearly nose to nose.

"I'm going with a millennia." He said, she saw no disgust in his eyes, merely curiosity. She leaned forward, tilting her head, and moving her lips and hot breath along his strong jaw. Her hands rose and she sunk her fingers into his hair, soft as silk, just like she'd expected.

She moved with grace and speed, gently pushing him back and straddling his lap. Her teeth sunk into the soft lobe of his ear, and large hands gripped her hips, a low growl escaping him. It sent flutters through her body, to the area between her legs where a soft throb of need was building.

"A little older than that, tiger." She purred, before slyly and stealthily removing her body from his without hesitation or falter and making her way toward the dance floor; beer pressing to her lips, against a smug grin.


	6. Chapter 6

Have you ever been completely exhausted, but you couldn't fall asleep? The feeling is maddening and it was currently the faze Clary was in. She stared up at the ceiling through the blackness of her room. Tossing and turning was becoming a sure sign of insanity and she was convinced that if she did it again, she was going to get up and cut the sheets into pieces. Rolling her eyes she glanced over at the clock sitting on the bedside table. _1:03 am_.

Oh joy. Sitting up she runs a hand through her hair and a noise outside her door catches her attention. She frowns, staring at the closed oak. "Simon, shut up." Izzy's voice hissed and Clary heard an awkward apology. Covering her mouth to stifle the surprising laughter that bubbled up, she stood and crept over to her door. Opening it with ease she peered out and noticed Izzy in a lip lock with some boy in glasses. Hmm.

When she turned and faced the front of her, she jumped as her gaze met brilliant gold. Jace was staring at her before his eyes trailed over to his sister currently sucking face. Disgust pinched his features and he looked back at her, before crooking his finger in a motion for her to, 'come here.' She had the idea to just flick him off and got back to bed, but there wasn't a chance she was sleeping any time soon and she wanted to know who that boy was.

So she moved forward, closing her door silently, her lips twitching into a smile as she watches Jace watch her. She kept her back flush against the large door, her eyes trailing over to Izzy and the boy, she had him pinned to the wall. Well then . . .

Clary's lips twitched and she took a step forward, feeling laughter bubble up her throat, but before she could truly put weight on her extended foot Jace reaches out, wrapping an arm around her waist, lifting her clear up and turning her so that she was in his room. He shut his door with a soft click, leaning against it, with her body flush against his.

"Who was that?" She giggled against his throat and he grunts.

"That, milady, would be rat boy." He says simply, moving past her. She frowned as she felt the heat of his body leave her. She didn't like her awareness of him, not one bit. He was too young. Too . . . new. Her reputation was made and tarnished and irreversible, but he was still creating one.

She didn't have the right to get involved with him, not one. Didn't mean that she didn't want to, because she did. Badly. He was staring at her and she realized she was blatantly staring at him. She stuck her tongue out and his lips lifted.

"Don't tease, Ms. Morgenstern." He murmured and she glared, crossing her arms.

"What did you want, Jace? And why did you call him, 'rat boy'?" She asked, a slow smile spreading onto her face, because she could feel the prospect of a story, rising.

"Because, he annoys me." Jace grumbles and Clary raised an eyebrow.

"Why? Did you want to fuck Izzy?" She asked innocently and he snorts.

"No." He answers without hesitation and then he sighs.

"He's . . . complicating and annoying. Just annoying. It doesn't matter, what are you doing awake. I mean, they weren't discreet, but they weren't loud. So, why aren't you sleeping and dreaming of your next conquest?" He asks and she raises an eyebrow.

"Is that bitterness I detect in your tone, Mr. Herondale?" She drawled and he shrugged, although, he didn't deny it.

"What's wrong, Jace? Worried that you won't be my 'next conquest' whatever the fuck that is." Clary grumbled, glancing around his surprisingly neat room. God, how old was this boy?

"No, Clary, I won't be your conquest, you'll be mine." He says simply and she blinks, her gaze snapping to him in complete and utter shock at his forwardness.

"You – you are unbelievably _male_!" She nearly yells and his lips twitch, but he doesn't respond.

"Maybe, but I'm not a conquest. I make them, but I'm never one." He informed her and she stood up straighter, her head tilting to the side as she watched him carefully, as soon as he stood in the spot she wanted him in, she moved with a speed that wasn't detectable to the human eye so that she was directly in front of him. Her hand shot out against his sternum, forcing him into a chair. He grunted and she moved, straddling him gracefully.

His hands gripped either side of her hips, bunching the material as she curves her body onto his, keeping their chests intimately close. "Jace, the only reason that you're not a conquest, is because you've been focusing on girls. And that's okay, I mean, you _are_ a boy." She murmured against his ear and he growled, but she pushed harder onto his chest and he was pinned.

"Shush." She chastised.

"You also may want to rethink the whole 'making me your conquest' thing, because honey, you couldn't handle me." She purred in his ear, before pushing away from him and turning toward the door, she barely got three steps in before he was in front of her, forcing her back into the bed. She gasped when his weight settled in top of her. Magnus hadn't been wrong, no male had ever been on top of her, ever, and the fear that usually bubbled whenever one achieved that position never came as he gripped her jaw, forcing their eyes to meet.

He gave her a grin, "Why do you think I couldn't handle you, Clary? Hmm? Because you've brought so many guys to their knees by their balls? Well, you're so keen on giving me advice, I'm going to give you some of mine. The only reason you haven't been a conquest is because you've only gone after boys, but that's okay, you never really stopped being a little girl." He cooed and she blinked, shocked at his bravery, at his bluntness.

Did he somehow forget who she was? Forget what she was capable of? Because his comment, that was insanity. She shoved his chest and he went flying back into the wall. She stood up and smiled sweetly. "Jace, you haven't seen nineteen years and I've seen over a hundred times that amount, don't talk about things you understand, little boy." She snapped and his smirks, he was absolutely infuriating.

"I'm not talking about things I don't understand, Clary, because I completely understand the topic we're currently on. You have never been with a man and you think I've never been with a woman and now we're clashing. No need to go all 'Wonder Woman' on me." He grumbled, with a roll of his eyes. Her mouth was completely open as she stared at him.

She wasn't a whore. There had been some one night stands over the centuries, but the majority of the men she'd brought into bed had been relationships or friends. Although, the guys she had sex with were tame, mainly there as a warm body. Even Magnus, she didn't go after passion or a connection because that eventually led to heartbreak, so, she supposed Jace's logic could be proven, but she'd had sex with plenty men. It's not like all men were that strong against the touch of a woman and if Jace thought they were, then he was even stupider than she originally gave him credit for.

Without another word, she walked out of his room. She didn't understand that boy and she was starting to seriously wonder if constantly talking to him was the smartest thing she could be doing, because it really, really wasn't.


	7. Chapter 7

He reminded her of Jonathon. Skilled, powerful, and focused. Jace Herondale was a magnificent shadowhunter in his prime and he was perhaps the best in his generation. Hell, the best since Clary's brother. This served to both intrigue and terrify her. Power and strength like that went to a person's head, it went to Jon's head. What if it went to Jace's too? Why was the fucking worrying?!

An annoyed huff of air escaped her as she dropped from the bars. Izzy barely caught her waist from the ten foot drop, but Clary didn't notice, nor did she care as she jumped from the mats and walked over to the sparing ring. Jace and Alec were fighting and she could tell that the blonde was holding back. She'd already watched Jace defeat his older brother dozens of times without as much as a flick of his wrist. He was _too_ good.

Clary slid under the ropes and broke the boys apart, "You look ready to pass out and you look ready to sit down and enjoy some tea, take a break." Clary demanded, gently pushing a near hyperventilating Alec out of the ring and he thankfully went. Clary turned, Jace hadn't even broken into a thin sheen of sweat.

"Alright, pretty boy. You've never really fought against someone a hundred times your age, so, humor me." Clary said, flashing him a smile. Izzy settled against the rope, her eyes trained on the two shadowhunters currently preparing to spar against the other.

"I don't fight girls." Jace says simply and Clary laughs.

"That's cute, but don't worry. I promise I'll go easy on you, baby." She cooed and he glared at her as they both got into position.

"Alright. On your mark . . . ready . . . set . . . go." Izzy's voice rang the starting bell and immediately, Clary's leg shot out, raising high and with such speed that it wasn't visible before wrapping around Jace's neck and slamming him down. She turned gracefully and Clary ended up in a squatting position on his back. She smirked and glanced over to see Izzy staring with wide stunned eyes.

Jace, moved, his arm shooting out and his hand wrapped around the back of Clary's neck, turning them both while securing a leg between Clary's. He rested his body weight fully on top of her and she sucked in a sharp breath. He stared down at her, nearly nose to nose with those angelic gold eyes boring into hers. It was quiet for a second and in that second Clary had the time to realize the true intimacy of their position. He was on top.

She slammed her head forward, allowing the hard part of her skull to hit the soft part of his forehead, he cried out in a curse and rolled away from her. "Fucking hell, red." He hissed and she moved, standing up straighter.

"So sorry baby boy, I hope I didn't hurt you too bad. Would you like me to kiss it and make it better?" She asked sweetly, batting her eye lashes. A dark look crossed Jace's features as Izzy muffled her giggle. He stood at his full height and Clary was briefly reminded of the pure masculinity that seemed to seep from him. He was huge. She was small. They had a problem.

"I'm double your size, little girl." He growled and her hand shot out, a fist connecting with his jaw and causing his body to jerk to the side.

"No, I'm not a little girl. And I'm not _that_ small. When you can control the elements and have the earth at your will, then we'll talk, but until then, you are still just the little boy and I am the woman." She chirped, clapping her hands together happily.

"When was the last time you were attracted to a little boy?" He demanded and it received another punch. Izzy awkwardly excused herself, leaving the two sexually charged shadowhunters to their own wills.

Izzy passed Alec in the hall, "They having sex?" Alec asked and Izzy snorted.

"Not yet." She grumbled and her brother barked out a laugh.

Clary and Jace rolled around on the mat of the sparing ring. Curses and insults spitting from both of them as their hands and limbs tangled in the blurry of battle. Just before Clary could deliver another blow to Jace's abused jaw, he reached out and caught both of her wrists with a slam before turning them around with expert speed and pinning her to the ground. He growled in her face and she glared up at him. Now, don't ask how or who, because neither really could decipher, but the next thing they knew, lips were tangled in a frenzied hurry.

The kiss was rougher than the fighting as both fought for control and dominance. Clary wasn't willing to let that go, but Jace's hands merely tightened on her wrists and pushed them down hard. His leg slid between hers and he pressed his knee into her throbbing heat. A choked gasp of surprise escaped her throat, but the sound was swallowed by Jace's lips and tongue.

Clary tried to squirm, tried to find her footing, but his body weight. His heat. His lips. His tongue. _All_ of it just kept her pinned until she was sure he didn't even have to be holding down her hips and wrists. She lay there, taking it. Too caught up in the flurry of lust to truly realize just what she was doing. Submitting.

"My wrists." Clary breathed when Jace pulled back a fraction of an inch to breathe. Their gasps and pants mingled and Jace released her wrists instantly. The flat of his palms landing on either side of them, bringing him closer. She didn't move to kick him off, like she should have. Her hands came up and tangled in his hair, yanking him back down and fusing their lips together again. He groaned against her sigh before pushing them both up and allowing her legs to wrap around his waist. He carried her over the mats, until her body connected with large ropes.

She continued to run her fingers through the silk he called hair as his mouth opened wider, his tongue going into to explore every crevice of her mouth. Tasting her. Learning her. Oh no, she wanted him and when his hands slid up her shirt sliding along her bare skin, she felt liquid fire in their wake. Coating every blood cell in her body.

She needed to end this. It was suffocating her. Drowning her. Ruining her. At that thought, she shoved him back with a hoarse laugh before falling over the side of the ropes and landing gracefully on her feet.

"Jace, no." She said pointing up at him. Oh god. His hair fell over his now honey gold eyes that seemed to _glow_ with lust. His lips were flushed and pink, had she done that? Yes. Yes she had. Oh _god_.

She could only imagine how she looked. "No? Why not?" Jace asked and she stared up at him with wide eyes.

"Because . . . because it's _wrong_. I'm physically older than you and mentally, I'm ancient." She says with a simple shrug.

"Hmm." He nodded, pressing her lips together.

"Yeah, I'm not really giving a damn." He finished before jumping over the ropes.

"I have demons." She said, taking a step back as he walked toward her, they played that game until her back was against a wall.

"We all have demons." He answered her, his hands coming up and blocking her in.

"You're so young." She added.

"I'm not a kid, Clary." He snapped, pressing himself harder against her. She cleared her throat, shutting her eyes tightly.

"I – I know, but you're _young_ in the shadow world, my reputation is done. Sealed. Over. Yours is just barley beginning and I don't think that we should do anything to ruin that. I've got enough guilt. Don't need anymore." She laughed tensely, sliding from under his arm.

"So, yeah." She started to make her way toward the exit.

"How long?" His voice stilled her and she turned, a little confused by the question.

"How long what?" She asked and he shrugged.

"How long are you going to continue to deny our connection? How long are you going to keep lying to yourself?" He asked and she stared at him. Good question. She didn't answer though, she merely smiled and turned, walking out of the training room without looking back.


End file.
